


Word/picture

by Ischa



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, Incest, M/M, Multi, Sexual Content, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-06
Updated: 2011-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-23 12:02:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete sprays graffiti, the Ways own a comic store and 'The true and fabulous lives of the Killjoys' are a metaphor more often than not.</p><p><i>“Yeah. Gerard killed Party Poison and well, Gerard is Party Poison,” Pete answers, shrugging. Mikey smiles, even if he doesn’t want to. Pete was worried. “Also; Party Poison and Kobra Kid?” Pete says and Gerard gives him a look. “They're totally doing it, right?” he asks. Gerard looks shocked and Mikey has no idea what he's supposed to feel. He knows he didn't expect Pete to say that, knows Gerard didn't either.<br/>“No!” Gerard says and Pete gives him a look.<br/>“But they are in love,” Pete states. It's not a question. Pete is sure of this, Mikey realises. He looks over to Gerard.<br/>“He's not...they are not...” Gerard stammers, “They are not, Mikey.” Pete looks confused. “It's how they are,” Gerard adds, looking at Mikey. His fingers twisted in his shirt.<br/>“I know,” Mikey answers. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Word/picture

**Title:** Word/picture  
 **Pairing:** Gerard/Pete, Mikey/Pete, Gerard/Mikey/Pete  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Summary:** Pete sprays graffiti, the Ways own a comic store and 'The true and fabulous lives of the Killjoys' are a metaphor more often than not.  
 **Warnings:** character death (kind of), sex, angst, threesome, incest  
 **Author’s Notes:** Quotes from: My Chemical Romance, Linkin Park, Emilie Autumn and Lady Gaga. Artwork by me.  
 **Word count:** 9.903  
 **Beta** stones_at_moons, tygermine  
 **Disclaimer:** Don’t know, don’t own, not real

\---

~1~  
“I don’t fucking know what to say to that!” Gerard says, hands in the air. The fingerless gloves are a stark contrast against his pale skin. Mikey doesn't know what to say to that either. “I mean, that's not even art...” he bites his lip like he's considering the statement he just made, because it's Gerard and Gerard usually accepts art in all forms.

“We can paint over it,” Mikey suggests and Gerard nods.

“Who would sign graffiti with 2 star anyway?” he asks, his fingers now tracing the obscure tag at the bottom of the picture. Mikey shrugs. “And I hate the colours, they clash with the wall,” he finishes and snatches his hand away as if burned.

“You're just pissed off because he chose the wall of our shop,” Mikey says with a soft smile.

“It clashes with everything on display as well,” Gerard huffs, annoyed.

“Wanna go for coffee?” Mikey asks. Gerard nods, but Mikey knew he would.

~+~  
The music drowns out every single thought in his mind and it feels good. The bodies around him feel good, solid and crashing like waves against his own. Maybe he's not going to sleep tonight, but he sure as hell isn't going home alone either. Pete blinks, for a moment there; it actually made sense and had meaning.

It's lost now. Like fucking always. He closes his eyes briefly, wishing for a piece of paper to scrawl it down, and when he opens them again a pretty red head is smiling at him.

Yeah, he thinks, definitely not going home alone.

 

~2~  
Pete is kind of pissed off when he walks past his latest masterpiece and finds it gone. Painted over with an awful greyish white. He liked that one, even more than that one he painted a few weeks ago on the front of the comic store – but he was drunk when he did that one, and he kind of feels guilty for that. Who uses that kind of colour anyway? Only prisons and maybe schools. He remembers the hall of his high school was that colour. His fingers itch with the need for a spray can. The new one would be in blues and reds and with a lot of words – or maybe only one. A statement of some sort that this is _his_ wall. Well, technically it's not, but he left a piece of himself on it, so it's like it's his, right? Right. You're always right if no one is arguing with you. But maybe that's his inner Travis – and he's stoned. Which doesn't make it less true, of course.

He puts his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, because it's getting freaking cold and stares some more at the wall.

~+~  
Mikey puts a stack of X-Men on the counter and looks outside.

“What?” Gerard asks.

“That guy there?” Mikey asks and Gerard follows Mikey's finger until he sees a figure in a bright green hoodie standing on the other side of the street.

“Yes?”

“He's been staring at that wall for solid ten minutes now,” he answers.

Gerard lights a cigarette and inhales deeply. “Why do you care?” he asks and Mikey knows that it means more: Why should I care?

He shrugs. “I don't.”

“Right...” his brother answers, passing him the cigarette (half smoked) and doesn't tell him not to ash on the comics again.

 

~3~  
“It's fucking dangerous to smoke in a comic store, dude,” Pete says and the guy looks up from the issue he's reading.

“It's mine,” he answers.

“The comic?” Pete asks.

“That too,” the guy says.

Pete smiles, stepping closer. It’s freaking cold outside. And he has no where to be anyway. And it’s raining like hell. “What’re you reading?”

“Sandman.” The guy answers, not looking up. Pete isn’t sure he likes him. That might be because Pete _loves_ one word sentences.

“Shouldn’t you be asking me if I need any help?”

“People in comic stores don’t need help,” another voice says from a dark shadowy entry that Pete didn’t see before.

“They usually know what they want,” the guy at the counter adds.

“Right…” Pete answers.

“Do you?” the guy lurking in the shadows asks.

“Do I what?” Pete is kind of confused here.

“Need help?” the guy wearing glasses at the counter says.

It’s kind of freaky how they can finish each other’s sentence. Or thoughts, more like it. I do, Pete thinks, but doesn’t say it.

“No, I’m just looking around,” he answers and the guy in the shadows huffs.  
Pete thinks he’s kind of creepy. Like you would imagine a guy who owns a comic store to be. Like that one freaky dude from The Simpsons. Pete is sure he has all kinds of opinions on everything. And no talent. That’s why he owns a comic store. The guy with the glasses throws a smile in the direction of the shadowy entry. Pete sees it from the corner of his eye and doesn’t wonder at all.

“I’m going to make coffee,” the shadow says.

“Okay.”

Pete just kind of wants it to stop raining and then he wants to go home. He sits down on the floor and stares outside instead. He figures they won't throw him out. If they wanted to, they would've done it by now.

“Here,” the shadow says and hands him a mug. Pete looks up, surprised. “It’s coffee…” Shadow guy adds. He doesn’t look creepy exactly. Just kind of like a vampire. Really pale skin. Pete takes the mug, it feels hot under his fingertips.

“Thanks,” he says.

Shadow guy shrugs and walks over to the counter, leans against it and begins to read the Sandman issue with the other guy. Pete tries not to stare. He busies himself with his mug of coffee.

He can hear the rain outside, the soft rustling of clothes and paper and noises and doesn’t turn around. He just plain doesn’t.

It’s like a weird porn soundtrack. That’s what it is, Pete thinks and then knows that he needs to get laid. Really soon.

~+~  
“There was paint on his wrist,” Gerard says as the guy in the bright green hoodie leaves the store. Mikey smiles, without lifting his eyes from the comic. “Don’t give me that look.”

“You gave him coffee,” Mikey points out.

“Oh shut up,” Gerard says, lighting a cigarette.

“So, you think he’s an artist?”

“There was paint on his wrist. Magenta paint, Mikey,” Gerard answers. He says it like it's significant in some way. Mikey knows his brother. It is significant in some way – at least to Gerard and in the end that's all that matters.

“Give me,” Mikey says and Gerard hands his cigarette over without a glance. Mikey inhales smoke and stares out of the window. “It was the same guy who was staring at the wall the other day.”

“You think?”

“Small, with a horrible fashion sense? Yeah, I do.”

Gerard laughs.

 

 _Interlude I: Battery City  
[](http://pics.livejournal.com/creepylicious/pic/000qxtgg/)_

 _Party poison could see Battery City from where he stood beside the bike. It was a giant structure made of glass, steel and ghosts. It glittered in the sun like an ebony tower. He took a deep breath. It tasted like dust and sand. He nodded once in Kobra Kid's direction. Kobra Kid said nothing, didn't even look in the city's direction. He put on his helmet and got onto the bike. Party Poison grabbed his arm, his fingers slipping on the material of Kid's jacket, who nodded once. Sharp, short. Grim, Party Poison thought - and didn't think about when all this started to be too much. It was, after all, from the beginning._

 _“I'll be back,” he said._

 _Kid started the machine and kept quiet. He didn't watch Kid drive away. He could hear it, feel it, taste it on his tongue._

 _This was madness and they all knew it. And Kid was the only one who got that he needed to be here, needed to get there. The only one who said he would drive him out here. To the outskirts of town, of the zones, of safety. Or what passed for it these days._

 _~+~  
He didn't blend in, exactly, and that was the plan all along. He wanted to get noticed. Insanity was a normal thing out there. Inside here. Everywhere. The difference between them and us, he thought, is that we know it. _

_He ripped a wanted poster of himself and one of Kid from a wall and made his way to the tower._

 _~+~  
Ghoul was fucking pissed off. _

_“You just drove him to the edge of the fucking town?!” his voice got lost somewhere (everywhere) between the endless desert and the horizon._

 _“It's what he wanted,” Kid answered._

 _“He's insane. Everyone knows that.”_

 _“Is he after Korse?” Jet Star asked._

 _Kid shrugged his shoulders. “Is there anything else?” Jet Star looked grim when he shook his head._

 _“You left him there,” Ghoul said again._

 _“I know,” Kid answered._

 _“He's gonna die,” Ghoul got out his cigarettes and swore. “_ I'm _gonna kill him,” he said. Kid smiled._

 _“He stole your smokes.” It wasn't a question._

 _~+~  
He hated Battery City, hated the clean streets, the cleaner windows, the people (like zombies, bare any humanity left). The buildings like towers, like prisons made of glass and steel. The only colour the red X on their wanted posters. And Poison's hair. _

_~+~  
“They'll never get him alive,” Kid said. _

_“And that's better, how?” Ghoul asked. He kicked the dirt and stared at the horizon. A small cloud of dust obscured the earth beneath them for a moment. You couldn't see Battery City from here. They were too far away, too deep in the desert. But Kid thought he could still feel it – unreal, like oil on your skin._

 _“Because they’ll never get him alive,” Kid answered simply as the dust around them settled._

 _“I fucking hate you both,” Ghoul said._

 _~+~  
The thing about Korse was you couldn't kill him. He tried, everyone tried and some got ghosted trying. Immortal some said. Poison didn't believe it. Nothing is built forever. He just needed to look around him to see that. _

_The ambush was sudden, but not surprising at all. Poison was sure they knew he was in town as soon as he set foot on the ground. The pavement of Battery City. Like the City itself rejected him._

 _“I told you to keep running,” Korse said and Poison thought he heard something like amusement in his voice. He smiled. A soft breeze caught his hair: it was a blood red veil, a statement, a battle song. Graffiti on the wall._

 _“I never do what people tell me,” he answered just before he got hit._

 _~+~  
Kid stared in the direction he knew Battery City was. Night had fallen, the sky was endless like the stars. He waited. _

_“He's going to blow shit up,” he said as Jet Star stepped beside him. He leaned against Kid's bike and nodded._

 _“I know.”_

 _“Or he gets ghosted,” Ghoul said._

 _“He's going to blow shit up,” Kid repeated, without looking away. Ghoul took out a cigarette. Kid was sure it tasted like dirt and sand, and lit it. Kid could hear him inhale and his fingers itched. He wouldn't smoke though, not until Poison was back._

 _“When he does, we're gonna get him,” Jet Star said._

 _Kid nodded._

 

~4~  
Mikey meets Pete at a coffee shop close to the store. He’s sitting at a table, nursing his coffee and thinking about maybe stopping by the bakery on the way home, because Gerard likes their scones, when the guy with the horrible fashion sense (honestly, is he four or what?) sits down at his table.

“Hi,” he says.

Mikey looks up from Gerard’s latest comic page and at him. “Hi.”

“You’re the guy from the comic store,” he says. “I’m Pete.” He smiles in a way that is more a grin. All teeth and shiny eyes.

“Mikey,” Mikey offers, because his mom raised him to be polite – even when Gerard raised him to sing the revolution.

“What’re you doing?” Pete asks, peering at the page. Mikey covers it with his arm and then puts it away.

“Nothing.” Pete gives him a look. “Reading. I was reading before you interrupted me,” he says.

“Sorry…I could go?” Pete answers, but he doesn’t seem like he would even if Mikey told him to and Mikey isn’t sure he wants to tell Pete that.

“Gerard says you’re an artist,” Mikey says. It’s not a question, because Gerard has something like an artist radar.

Pete shrugs, looks into his cup of something that doesn’t look like coffee and Gerard would probably scoff over, doesn't ask who Gerard is and says, “Sometimes.”

~+~  
Pete ends up walking Mikey home to his apartment with a stop at a small bakery to buy scones. The woman at the counter seems to know him, she gives Mikey a soft smile and puts an extra scone into the bag with a wink.

They talk about comics mostly and then about music. Mikey, Pete learns, is really passionate about both subjects.

“This is me,” Mikey says suddenly and stops in front of an old apartment building. He gets his key out and shifts to get it into the lock.

“Oh…okay…see you around?”

“You know where I work,” Mikey answers with a shrug.

“Right,” Pete says with a smile and turns as Mikey disappears into the building.

On his way home he is repeating every word they said in his head, because he’s an obsessive person. That could be his inner Travis again.

Halfway to his apartment, he takes out his iPod and starts listening to music to make himself stop obsessing over every word.

It doesn’t work like it should.

When he opens his own door he's met with silence. Great, he thinks. He takes off his shoes and jacket and looks into the freezer first. Leftover Chinese... He shrugs and takes it out, walking over to the couch.

He sits down and something makes a funny noise. He turns and fishes it out from under the cushion. It's a comic. One of the underground ones Travis reads. Self-published. He shrugs and turns the page. He really doesn't have anything better to do.

 

~5~  
Pete is at the store again three days later. “So, I’m looking for Mikey?” he says upon entering.

“He’s not here,” shadow guy says.

“I can wait?”

“You can. If you have three hours to spare,” the guy says. Pete is seriously thinking about going home again and maybe trying to sleep. “Mikey says you’re an artist,” he adds. He doesn’t look up from what ever he’s doing at the counter. Looks like doodling.

“Sometimes,” Pete answers and his insides do a happy dance, because Mikey mentioned him to shadow dude.

“What do you do?” he asks.

“Well…words, mostly,” Pete answers vaguely.

“Dude, did you spray my wall?” shadow guy asks, looking up and at him. He has really intense eyes, Pete thinks.

“No,” Pete says. He is a good liar. It comes naturally to him. The guy takes out a pack of cigarettes and lights one.

“How come I don’t believe you?” he asks, he takes a drag from his cigarette and Pete stares at his lips for a split second.

“Because you have trust issues?” a voice says from the door, bringing the cold with it.

“Mikey!” he says. His voice tender and happy.

Mikey smiles and nods. “Surprise,” he replies. “And I brought coffee.”

“I love you,” shadow guy answers and Pete is sure, absolutely sure, that he means it. He thinks he’s never heard anyone say it like that before. Like it’s the only truth there is. He feels a shiver run down his spine and a hot ball of jealousy settling into the pit of his stomach.

“I know,” Mikey says, “oh, hi Pete,” he adds.

“Hi,” Pete answers.

“So, Gerard didn’t scare you away?” he asks.

“No,” Pete answers and wishes he never came.

“He sprayed my wall.” Gerard says.

“Our wall and how do you know?” Mikey asks.

“He’s a shitty liar,” Gerard answers. Mikey laughs, putting the coffee down on the counter and taking the cigarette Gerard offers him without a word. He nods a thanks.

“New page?” Mikey asks.

“Not sure yet…maybe,” he answers, looking down at the sheet of paper. Not a doodle then Pete thinks.

“So…are you busy?” Pete asks into the sudden silence.

“Am I?” Mikey replies, looking at Gerard.

“Whatever…just don’t,” he says waving his hand and Mikey laughs. He gives the cigarette back. Their fingers brush and Pete feels uncomfortable for a second before Mikey says; “So, wanna go for coffee?”

Pete sees Gerard roll his eyes, but he nods anyway.

~+~  
He and Pete end up at Pete's place after they get coffee and something to eat. Pete is talking a mile a minute and Mikey nods in all the right places. He thinks he doesn't even have to listen to Pete. It's a bit like with Gerard, but of course Gerard catches on really fast after all these years when Mikey isn't really listening. Pete on the other hand has no way of knowing.

He takes out his pack of cigarettes and interrupts Pete with; “Can I smoke here?”

“What? Sure.” Pete answers and goes back to talking about this awesome guy he met and how his voice is the best thing ever in the whole world.

“Hmmm...” Mikey says and listens with one ear. He kinda likes how serious Pete is about everything that sparks his creativity.

They fall asleep on the couch during _’The Walking Dead.’_

 

~6~  
Mikey wakes up to the smell of coffee. “Want some too...” he mumbles into the cushion that smells different than it should.

“I'm not making coffee for one-night-stands,” an amused voice says.

“I have my clothes on...” Mikey answers, turning. “And you’re not Gerard.”

“Travis...” the guy says and hands him his mug. “And I think you need that more than I do.”

“Thanks,” he answers, getting up, grabbing the mug and taking a careful sip. It's not as good as Gerard's, but no one can make coffee like Gerard anyway. ”What time is it?”

“Ten,” Travis answers.

“Oh, shit...” Mikey takes out his phone and yeah; three missed calls and ten text messages. All of them from Gerard. He smiles. His brother. Honestly. He pushes one and waits.

“Fucker...I just fell asleep,” Gerard mumbles.

“I'm still alive and in one piece. Also in no ones basement,” Mikey answers.

“Good, when are you coming back?”

“Later, I have coffee.”

“Don't talk to me ever again...” Gerard huffs and Mikey laughs.

“Love you, too,” he says.

“I'm hanging up now,” Gerard answers and does.

“You know Gabe?” Travis asks. Mikey laughs.

“Yeah...”

 

He's sitting with Travis over the new X-Men issue when Pete stumbles into the kitchen. He smiles when he sees Mikey. Mikey smiles back. It's simple with Pete.

“You're still here,” he says, pouring himself coffee and adding about a kilo sugar and a lot of milk as well.

“Yeah,” Mikey answers.

“So, I really need the new issues of The True and Fabulous lives of the Killjoys. It kills me not knowing what is happening. You know that one?” Travis asks.

“Yeah, I do. I have a copy of the new issue. It's sold out already,” Mikey answers.

“Why don't they have a homepage, seriously! I love that shit. Everyone I know loves that shit.”

“What?” Pete asks and Travis ignores him.

“So, can I borrow your copy?” he asks Mikey.

“Sure. Come by the store later?”

“Sweet,” Travis says, getting up as Pete sits down. “Have to go. Work.”

“Okay...” Mikey answers and waves a bit as Travis leaves.

“What was that all about?” Pete asks, he doesn't look like he slept that much.

“The True and Fabulous lives of the Killjoys,” Mikey answers.

“I know that shit. I read it last week when I got home. It's this self-published comic book, right?” Pete asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah.”

“Man, I really do want to know if they get Party Poison out of Battery City,” Pete says.

“I'm sure Travis will let you read it.”

“Better idea, I have nothing to do now. We're going to the store and I can read it there!” Pete says, excited.

“Or that,” Mikey answers.

~+~  
Gerard is not in the store when Mikey unlocks the door.

“He's sleeping,” Mikey says as if reading Pete's mind.

“Okay...”

“I called him this morning and it's my shift anyway. I bet he was painting.” The last part seems to Pete as an afterthought.

“Good to know,” Pete says, sitting down in one corner on an old looking sofa. Mikey smiles that little smile of his and doesn't say anything. He goes to the back-room and comes back a few minutes later with the new issue of The True and Fabulous lives of the Killjoys.

“Want something else?” Mikey asks. He's looking down at Pete and Pete feels even smaller than usually.

“No, I'm good. Just kick me out whenever...” he says opening the first page. He knows Mikey won't.  
It seems Mikey really doesn't mind him hanging out here. Maybe Gerard doesn't either.

 

 _Interlude II: Bulletproof heart  
[](http://pics.livejournal.com/creepylicious/pic/000qy7z5/)_

 _It was rage and love that fuelled his thinking in equal parts. Rage seemed to win sometimes. It didn't matter, Poison thought, as long as he was feeling something. He knew where he was without opening his eyes. He's been here before. Kid was worried sick, he thought. And smiled. Kid was feeling something as well. It was all about feeling too much and not enough. This whole stupid war was just about that._

 _“Word on the street is that we'd never get you alive,” Korse said and Poison opened his eyes. The only thing not white in the room was Korse and even he seemed washed out._

 _“Is that so?” he asked with a smile. Smiling hurt, everything hurt, even breathing. He was stupidly happy and kind of smug; there was after all a word on the street. There was resistance. There was revolution._

 _Korse looked at him sharply. “And here you are,” he said._

 _“I walked into your fucking City,” Poison answered. “That should tell you something.”_

 _“Like what?” Korse voice was emotionless. Poison really didn't know how much of the man was still in there. In this body that was equally metal and skin. Living tissue on the outside, but dead as glass on the inside._

 _Poison smiled and refused to answer._

 _~+~  
Kid’s fingers itched with the need to do something. The sun was a pale ball of yellow on the horizon. Everything seemed washed out and buried under a layer of dust and sand. He hated the desert, but he hated the city more. _

_“What if he’s not coming back?” Ghoul asked, because he always asked the fucking difficult questions when Poison wasn’t there to ask them._

 _“He will,” Kid answered, because there was no questioning that. It was a fact of life. Poison would come back or his shadow would live without him here in the desert. But even a shadow was better than living in the city._

 _“When he goes through with this…” Ghoul took a drag of his cigarette and Kid wanted to kill him for it, “he’s not gonna make it.”_

 _Kid nodded, he knew. He knew it, he just didn’t know what to do with that knowledge._

 _~+~  
“So…” Poison said with a smile. “Let’s say I’m a time bomb…” he finished closing his eyes. He was sure Kid understood that he had to do this. Someone had. (“Why the hell must it be you?” Kid had asked. “Because there is no one else,” he had answered and Kid kept silent.)_

 _“You couldn’t smuggle anything in,” Korse said, but Poison thought that he didn’t look too sure about it._

 _“You know, I have a bulletproof heart,” he answered._

 _~+~  
Kid knew Poison had a plan B, because Poison always had a plan B and C and D. He planned shit through. It was what kept them going, kept them alive. _

_~+~  
“You’ll die,” Korse said. _

_“Yes,” Poison answered. He had a plan B. He had to, because even being a living bomb, even all of this madness, wasn’t enough to keep him away from Kid and Ghoul and Jet Star._

 _~+~  
They could feel the explosion from where they were. Could feel and see it. Could see the tower crumble. _

_“I knew it would end like that!” Ghoul said and Kid knew he was holding back the tears, but not the anger._

 _Never let them get you alive, Kid thought. Poison did. He walked into that fucking city. His hair a red flag, a statement, blood red on washed out white. Ghoul offered him a cigarette, but he shook his head._

 _“He’s not back yet.”_

 _“He walked into that fucking city with a bomb inside him. We just witnessed a huge explosion. Do the math, Kid,” Ghoul said. His voice sounded hoarse._

 _“He always blows shit up,” Jet Star threw in._

 _Kid nodded. “I’m gonna drive to the border in the morning,” he said._

 _“You’re suicidal like him?” Ghoul asked, gripping his arm hard. Kid didn’t look away from the fire in the distance._

 _“No,” he said, but the truth was, he didn’t think he could live like this. Alone._

 

~7~  
Pete doesn't know how it happens. Honestly he has no clue. One minute he is talking with Gerard about art and paintings and what effect you could achieve with less glitter – Gerard scoffed – and the next he's kissing Gerard and Gerard is kissing him back. He tastes like cheap whisky and cigarettes. Sharp and burning at the tip of Pete's tongue, but he definitely knows what he's doing. Pete doesn't know what he's doing. He’s never kissed a guy before- or he doesn’t remember. He knows that he’s never wanted to before either. Gerard's lips are soft like a girl's. His whole body is soft and just right. His hair smells like smoke, like his clothes. A bit stale. Not like a girl at all.

His fingers tighten in Gerard's shirt. He just can't stop kissing Gerard. He just can't.

“I'm really drunk,” Pete says, his voice kind of hoarse.

“You wanna stop?” Gerard asks, he looks really serious and really hot. Wetting his lips. Pete doesn't, is the thing. He knows, he knows, it's not a good idea, but he just doesn't want to stop kissing Gerard.

“No,” he gets out eventually and Gerard smiles, a small, secret smile. It's hot as hell and then his lips are on Pete again and his hand on Pete's dick. He didn't even realise that he was getting hard.

“This okay?” Gerard asks and Pete bites his lip.

“Yes, yes...” he stutters between kissing these lips. He's kind of doomed. He knows it. It can't be right to do that with Gerard – Pete still isn't clear on the Mikey/Gerard dynamics. But it's not his problem, he figures, he's not the one cheating. Gerard laughs when Pete moans and bites softly at his neck. Pete can feel Gerard’s breath on his skin. Hot and scorching. He comes embarrassingly fast and in his pants.  
Gerard kisses his lips, softly and leans away, his neck an invitation, but Pete is too drunk and tired to do anything about it.

“You can sleep here,” Gerard says.

“Thanks...” Pete mumbles and slides down until he lies on the couch. Curled up. He feels Gerard getting up and then a warm, worn out blanket over his body. “Thanks…” he says again.

“No problem,” Gerard answers.

~+~  
“Pete is sleeping on our couch,” Mikey says as he enters the kitchen. He has coffee. Gerard loves him.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“We had…sex, I guess,” Gerard says waving his hand in a dismissive way.

“You guess?” Mikey asks. He is not pissed at Gerard, not exactly.

“I was drunk…I don’t feel like…not sure there were orgasms involved,” Gerard says. Mikey sighs.

“Right. You like him?”

Gerard lights a cigarette and inhales deeply before he asks; “Do you?”

“Is this one of these stupid: I’ll back off if you want him, because you’re my brother and/or because you saw him first thing?”

“Maybe?” Gerard admits.

Mikey sits down and shoves one of the coffees in his brother’s direction. “It’s too early for this shit, Gerard.”

“You think I messed it up.” It’s not a question.

“I think you maybe messed him up,” Mikey answers.

Gerard nods, but keeps quiet. Mikey knows he’s mulling this over in his head.

 

Pete looks exhausted and kind of guilty when he enters the kitchen an hour later. Gerard is in his room, working on the final part of his comic, Mikey thinks. Actually he would bet anything he has on that. Gerard always buries himself in his work when he doesn’t want to deal with stuff.

“Morning,” Pete says, sitting down at the small table.

“Coffee?” Mikey asks. Pete nods. “So, you and Gerard had sex,” Mikey says, while he’s preparing coffee.

“Not sure. I was drunk. And can you call it sex when it was only a hand-job?”

“Fooling around then,” Mikey says.

“You mad?” Pete asks and his voice sounds small.

“Not at you…not at him either, I guess.” Mikey puts one mug in front of Pete on the table and keeps the other between his hands.

“That doesn’t mean you’re not mad,” Pete clarifies.

“No, it doesn’t.”

 

~8~  
Things between him and Gerard are kind of awkward, mostly because Pete can’t stop thinking about Gerard’s lips on his and Gerard’s hand on his dick and how he smells. He kind of wants to know how Gerard looks when he comes, too.

“Stop staring,” Mikey hisses.

“Can’t,” Pete answers.

“Then just go over and do something about it.”

Pete has long given up on figuring them out. He wonders still sometimes, but he just lives with it. Pete shakes his head. “Why not?” Mikey wants to know.

“Because…” Pete says.

“Yeah, I get it. He’s a dude and you are straight,” Mikey scoffs, getting up. Pete watches him walk over to the counter where Gerard is and whispering into his ear. Pete can’t look away. It seems so natural, like they belong to each other. He wonders if they know that.

~+~  
“He’s a douche,” Mikey says.

“He’s not. I get it,” Gerard answers. He doesn’t look up from the page he’s working on.

“I know you get it, but that’s just you being you,” Mikey says, snuggling closer to Gerard on the couch. Only their legs are touching, because Mikey knows Gerard needs room to move, to work.

“I guess I just... kind of jumped him. He was there, I was there. It kind of happened.”

“You want it to happen again?” Mikey asks.

Gerard looks up and at him, takes a deep breath. “It did,” he answers.

“I wish I could say I’m surprised,” Mikey offers.

“I don’t want to mess him up.”

“Too late,” Mikey answers. “That’s the reason he’s a douche, right? Every time you guys fool around he’s feeling guilty or whatever and doesn’t talk to you, or me for that matter.”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” Gerard says.

“It’s not your fault, Gee,” Mikey answers, pulling him forward by his shirt into a hug.

“He doesn’t stay away,” Gerard says.

“No, he doesn’t,” Mikey answers, softly. He wishes Pete _would_ go, or make his mind up. This isn’t healthy behaviour. Not that he thinks Pete of all people is sanity in person. You just have to look at the insane stuff he spays on walls.

 

~9~  
Pete thinks about Gerard all the time, and whenever he does that his thoughts wander off to Mikey as well. He remembers the first time he saw them. Together. Recalls the soft noises, like he thought it was a weird porn soundtrack. Now, it doesn’t seem weird at all. It seems like this is how sex with them should sound like.  
It’s frustrating at best.

“You look like shit,” Travis comments and for a second he wonders if it’s his inner Travis or the real one. “The real one, dude…” Travis adds, sounding kind of amused.

“I had…I have, I have a sexual relationship with a guy,” Pete says.

“Are you stressing about this?” Travis answers.

“Yes, I’m stressing about it. I’ve never had…I didn’t even know I wanted to, but now I can’t stop!”

“Then don’t. God, Pete, life is too short to be scared of living it. The aftermath is secondary.”

“Are you quoting Party Poison to me?”

“Dude has a point,” Travis answers.

“Dude is a fictional character for god’s sake.”

“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a point,” Travis counters.

Pete closes his eyes and laughs. “Fuck me.”

“I got the impression someone is already fucking you…” Travis says smug.

~+~  
Mikey crosses his arms over his chest and stares at Pete. “What do you want?”

“To see Gerard?”

“Are you going for coffee and a blow-job and then disappear for another few days, before you need your fix again?” Mikey asks sharply. Pete flinches and Mikey thinks: good. He deserves it.

“No,” Pete answers.

“What then? You’re messing him up and I don’t find it funny,” Mikey says.

“He messes me up,” Pete whispers. “You’re messing me up.”

“What?”

“You, him, you both,” Pete says and steps right into Mikey’s personal space.

“What are you doing? Back the fuck off!”

Pete doesn’t. He stares and then he grabs Mikey by his shirt and kisses him. Mikey is too surprised for a second to do anything, but then he shoves Pete away. “The fuck?”

“The aftermath is secondary.” Pete says, stepping away. Not too far, just to give Mikey room.

“Don’t quote Party Poison to me!”

“Dude has a point.”

“What is yours? Did you want to find out if it’s only Gerard or guys, or what?”

“I did that already. I wanted to know if it’s only Gerard and _you_ ,” Pete says.

Mikey closes his eyes. “This is not happening. I’m not gonna be the other guy.”  
Pete touches his arm and Mikey flinches away, his eyes wide open.

“Okay. I just…I wanted you to know.”

Mikey hates him right now, he really does. “Get out,” he says. His voice cold.

 

 _Interlude III-a: Destroyer_

 _When the dust settled after hours he could see one figure standing in the middle of the destroyed tower. Soft pink hair like a washed out veil._

 _“It could be dust,” Jet Star said._

 _Kid nodded. It could be. He got off the bike and Ghoul grabbed his arm._

 _“I don’t think it’s dust, Kid,” he said._

 _“I know.”_

 _~+~  
The world was an empty place. The dust hurt his lungs, or maybe he only thought that it should. Yeah, he only thought it should. It didn’t. Breathing wasn’t difficult at all. The ray-gun in his hand felt familiar and yet not. The sky was a perfect shade of pale inoffensive blue. Like the sky should always look. Too much colour was not good. He closed his eyes and breathed in. His brain processed and catalogued everything. Wind on his skin, pressure against his side, a shallow cut on the back of his hand. _

_“Poison?” someone asked and he pointed the gun in the guy’s direction. An automatic response to a threat._

 _“Kobra Kid,” he said and the guy nodded._

 _“I’m sorry,” he replied._

 _He didn’t understand why. He didn’t even understand the concept._

 _~+~  
Poison never called him Kobra Kid. Never, even when he insisted on it in the beginning of all this. Poison always only called him Kid. A nickname, a secret that wasn’t even one. _

_“You don’t know me,” he said._

 _“You are Kobra Kid,” Poison replied._

 _“You never call me that,” Kid answered._

 _“But that is your name.” Poison looked kind of confused for a moment, but the ray gun never wavered in his hand. “You’re wanted,” he added after a few seconds._

 _“Okay, enough of this,” Ghoul threw in and got his gun out._

 _“No!” Kid said._

 _“Never let them take you alive. That’s what he said, Kid.”_

 _“And this isn’t even life. That is not-life and you know it.” Jet Star added._

 _“The Dracs will be here soon,” that was Ghoul again.  
Kid looked only at Poison who wasn’t Poison anymore. _

_“He’s not Poison anymore and you know you can’t bring him back,” Ghoul said._

 _Kid nodded once. “We have to take him down while we can,” Jet Star threw in._

 _Kid nodded again. “I know.”_

 _~+~  
He stepped closer and he tried to process what he was doing. Something inside him didn’t work properly. He had to go back to Better Living and get himself fixed. The gun met something soft. Kobra Kid’s chest. He looked up and Kobra Kid reached out, touched his face. Kobra Kid’s hand warm and soft on his cold skin. _

_“You don’t even feel like him anymore,” Kobra Kid said._

 _“Like who?” he asked._

 _“Party Poison.”_

 _“That’s not my name,” he said._

 _“What is your name?” Kobra Kid asked._

 _“Kid, come on!” Ghoul said._

 _“Destroyer,” he answered._

 _Kobra Kid closed his eyes and the next thing he knew, he felt pain. His knees gave and he fell to the ground._

 _~+~  
Poison’s head was in the backpack. His blood was still dripping as they drove away. Leaving Battery City for dust and sand._

 _~end_ ~

 

~10~  
Pete is moping around the apartment and he knows it. He just can’t fucking stay away. And he can’t stop thinking about Gerard and Mikey.

“They killed Party Poison,” Travis says.

“What?” Because seriously, what?

“Here, read it yourself! I can’t fucking believe it,” Travis says. Pete takes the comic book and begins to read while Travis makes coffee in the kitchen. He’s on the last page when Travis comes back with it.

“They killed Party Poison…” Pete says disbelieving.

“Yes, they did. What the hell. How can this end like this?” Travis asks, sipping coffee and rolling a joint.

“When you think about it, it was kind of inevitable,” Pete says.

“Hmmm…still sucks. Liked the dude.”

 

Later when Pete is reading it again. All of it, even the second part – that one he borrowed from Mikey and never gave back – it hits him like a rock to his head.

~+~  
“You killed Party Poison,” Mikey says.

“Yes…” Gerard answers, he sounds unhappy.

“Why?”

“I’m tired of him.”

“But it makes Kobra Kid sad. He’s going to kill himself and you know it,” Mikey says, lighting a cigarette and handing it over to Gerard.

Gerard smiles. “Kobra Kid will be all right on his own. He has Ghoul and Jet Star.”

“He doesn’t have Poison,” Mikey says firmly.

“I’m not going to kill myself, Mikey,” Gerard answers, softly.

Mikey grabs his hand and squeezes.

 

Pete comes by the store a few days after the latest issue is released.

“What do you want?” Gerard asks.

“They killed Party Poison,” Pete says. Gerard gives him a look. “You killed Party Poison,” he clarifies.

Gerard crosses his arms over his chest and glares. “What is it to you?”

Pete shrugs. “I kinda liked him, is the thing. Dude had some good ideas.”

Gerard sighs. “What do you want Pete?”

“I’m not here for the coffee and blow-jobs,” he answers.

Gerard smiles. “Mikey set your head straight, hmm?”

“Yeah… “

“What do you want here, Pete?” Mikey asks as he enters the store. He brings the cold winter air with him. Pete shivers.

“To talk.”

“About?”

“The True and Fabulous lives of the Killjoys,” Gerard answers.

Mikey sighs. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. Gerard killed Party Poison and well, Gerard is Party Poison,” Pete answers, shrugging. Mikey smiles, even if he doesn’t want to. Pete was worried. “Also; Party Poison and Kobra Kid?” Pete says and Gerard gives him a look. “They're totally doing it, right?” he asks. Gerard looks shocked and Mikey has no idea what he's supposed to feel. He knows he didn't expect Pete to say that, knows Gerard didn't either.

“No!” Gerard says and Pete gives him a look.

“But they are in love,” Pete states. It's not a question. Pete is sure of this, Mikey realises. He looks over to Gerard.

“He's not...they are not...” Gerard stammers, “They are not, Mikey.” Pete looks confused. “It's how they _are_ ,” Gerard adds, looking at Mikey. His fingers twisted in his shirt.

“I know,” Mikey answers. He does know that. He never looked at their relationship from the outside. Never saw what people might see. But when he's honest, it doesn't matter. It doesn't change a god-damned thing.

“I’m not weirded out by it,” Pete says.

“Because you are an idiot,” Mikey answers.

“What? You are Kobra Kid and he is Party Poison and you guys are in love,” Pete states.

“They’re brothers,” Gerard says in a small voice. Pete’s head snaps in his direction.

“We are brothers,” Mikey clarifies and Gerard nods.  
Oh, Pete thinks.

 

 _Interlude III-b: You only hear the music when your heart begins to break_

 _When the dust settled after hours he could see one figure standing in the middle of the destroyed tower. Then the figure’s knees gave and he fell to the ground. Kid was off his bike in a flash, ignoring Jet Star’s shouts to fucking stop and think. Kid wasn’t able to think beyond: he’s still alive._

 _~+~  
Everything hurt and not in a good way, not in a way that made him feel alive and human. In a way he thought he couldn’t bear much longer. _

_“Fuck, fuck, fuck! You’re so stupid, so fucking stupid,” Kid said, sinking down next to him and he tried to smile for Kid’s sake, but that hurt too._

 _“I’m a stupid motherfucker,” he answered. His voice hoarse like he screamed for days. Maybe he had. He remembered the last few days only in flashes of pain and white hot anger._

 _“Don’t talk about her like that,” Kid said. He looked worried sick._

 _“I’m gonna die, leave me here.”_

 _“No way,” Kid answered._

 _“Dracs will be here soon,” Poison said. Kid wiped dust and tears away from his face and didn’t look away from Poison._

 _“Sometimes I hate how you are,” he said softly._

 _“You love me and you know it,” Poison answered with as much conviction as he could muster. It was a lot. It was the only thing he had right now. Kid smiled. Poison closed his eyes. “Don’t bury me in the fucking desert,” he whispered._

 _~end~_

 

~11~  
Pete sprays 'The Future Is Bulletproof' on the wall on the other side of the street. Where the Ways can see it. Every fucking day until someone paints it over. It takes eight days for someone to paint it over.

“You’re moping again,” Travis says, sitting down next to him on the couch.

“That's my life now,” Pete answers and curls around the cushion. It smells like Alicia and it always makes him feel better. That's why he stole it from her in the first place. He suspects she knows.

“I thought you were over the whole gay-crisis?”

“I am. The future is bulletproof and all that. See...Poison and Kobra Kid are brothers.”

“It was never mentioned, I thought they were in love,” Travis says.

“They are,” Pete says cryptically.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on?”

“I think I'm in love with two people.”

“You never can take just the easy way, right?” Travis says, sighing. Pete laughs sudden and hysterical.

“Funny you should say that,” he answers after his laugh-flash. Travis turns to look at him.

“Oh shit, really?” Travis says.

“You knew they were brothers!” Pete accuses.

“Dude...yeah.”

“Well, fuck. Thanks a lot.”

“How should I have known you didn't?”

Fair point, Pete thinks, but doesn't say it. He is not in a generous mood right now.

~+~  
“That was Pete,” Mikey says, setting a stack of Spiderman on the counter. He knows Gerard saw it too. Every fucking day and they didn't talk about it. Pretended it wasn't there.

“I know,” Gerard answers. He's working on another page of The True and Fabulous lives of the Killjoys. The store is closed for the evening. It always is on Wednesdays. He misses Pete.

“I miss Pete, he always used to stop by on Wednesday evenings.”

“Mikey...” Gerard says, looking up from the page.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” Mikey asks.

“About what? Pete? How the things are between us-”

“How things _are_ between us, Gee,” Mikey interrupts.

“Pete got to you.”

“No, you got to me. Pete only stated the obvious.”

“It's just a comic. I killed Party Poison.” He says Party Poison like it means something, but it doesn't.

“You can't lie to me,” Mikey says firmly.

Gerard puts his pencil down so hard it breaks. “Fuck!” He lights a cigarette, inhales deeply and closes his eyes. “Let’s say,” he says when he opens them again, “he's right. What then?”

Mikey has no idea. “I don't know.”

“The truth doesn't always help you live your life, you know?” Gerard says softly between drags.

“It doesn't feel right,” Mikey answers, equally soft.

Gerard smiles, shakes his head. “That's life for you.”

Mikey turns to stare at the now blank wall. Greyish white.

 

 _Interlude III-c: Post apocalyptic love poem_

 _When the dust settled after hours he could see one figure standing in the middle of the destroyed tower. Covered in ash, covered in glass._

 _“Still alive,” Kid said, getting off his bike._

 _“You can never know these days,” Ghoul replied, grabbing his arm. Kid ignored him._

 _“He always has a plan B,” Kid answered._

 _“Sure thing, but his plan A sucked a lot if you ask me,” Ghoul said, lighting a cigarette. Kid smiled. He didn't want to, but there it was._

 _“Dracs will be here soon, I'm surprised they aren't here already,” Jet Star threw in._

 _“I'm gonna get him.”_

 _~+~  
“Do I even want to know, why you're here?” Poison asked. His arm hurt, his head hurt, breathing hurt. He never felt so much like fucking dying before. It felt good. _

_“Because I don't want to quit smoking,” Kid answered. “You're bleeding.”_

 _“It's a statement,” Poison said with a laugh. That hurt too._

 _“Everything these days seems to be.” Kid reached out and grabbed Poison's arm, who was swaying – held upright only by pure will alone._

 _“That's life for you,” Poison answered._

 _~+~  
“Your plans suck, dude,” Ghoul said as they helped Poison into the Trans Am. _

_“They’re brilliant. Look at it. Ash and glitter. I love it and I know you love it too.”_

 _“You nearly died,” Jet Star said._

 _“Thank you captain obvious,” Poison joked._

 _“I love it,” Kid said softly and Poison smiled._

 _~end~_

 

~12~  
'You taste like glitter mixed with rock 'n roll!'  
Gerard sees it on a Monday morning. It's cold and it snowed the night before. The snow makes funny, crunchy sounds under his boots. He stops and looks at it. He is sure Mister Yuen is really pissed off. He knows it shouldn't, but it makes him smile.

“Pete made that one, too,” Mikey says handing Gerard a cup of hot coffee, as he enters the store. Their fingers brush and Gerard doesn't flinch away.

“I know.”

“I think he's wooing you.”

“I think he is wooing us,” Gerard replies.

“Because he's quoting Lady Gaga?” Mikey asks, amused.

Gerard shrugs. “It's Pete. Who knows what is going on in his head?”

“True enough.”

~+~  
Pete sprays 'Everybody wants to change the world, but no one wants to die.' a few days later on the same wall. He wonders when the elderly owner of the shop will just give up and stop painting over his graffiti. He seems like someone who would never give up. Maybe he counts on Pete to give up his art first.  
He's kind of sorry for the dude, but he really needs this wall. It's the one opposite the comic store.

 

Pete is lying on his couch and kind of feeling sorry for himself and horny, because he couldn't stop thinking about the Ways, when his cell rings. He nearly has a heart attack when he sees the name on the display.

“Mikey?”

“Is this your way to demand I bring Party Poison back?”

“Gerard,” Pete breathes out. Gerard is silent on the other side of the line. “It kind of is,” Pete admits after he realises that Gerard is waiting for an answer.

“Not gonna happen, Pete,” Gerard says. “Stop making Mister Yuen cry,” he adds. He sounds amused Pete thinks.

“You love it!” he accuses.

“It clashes with everything,” Gerard says.

“I wanna see you,” Pete blurs out and Gerard hangs up on him. “Well, fuck,” Pete says to no one. But he's not giving up until they do or Mister Yuen does.

 

~13~  
“There are only two choices here,” Mikey says one Monday morning and Gerard knows he doesn't want to hear it. Not before he had coffee, maybe not even then. Mikey puts a mug on the table.

“I hate you,” Gerard mumbles.

“You love me,” Mikey says simply. Gerard closes his eyes and doesn't flinch.

“Yeah, I do,” he admits.

“There are two choices here. Playing by the rules – by other people's rules – and be unhappy for the rest of our lives – and no I'm not quoting the little mermaid to you - or fuck the rules and just go for it.” He sits down.

“Pete sprayed 'Do it now and do it loud' on Mister Yuen's wall sometime last night.”

“I know. I saw it. You called him.”

“He called you?”

Mikey shrugs. “I called him,” he admits.

Gerard nods. Of course Mikey did. He takes a sip of his coffee and lights his morning cigarette. Takes a deep drag. “I didn't know,” he says.

“I know you didn't. I didn't...I don't know. It kind of always was there, that's why it wasn't...” he stops and begins anew. “It's because we were always like this,” he finally settles on.

“Yes,” Gerard says, grabbing his brother's hand and squeezing.

“You wrote a new ending,” Mikey says after a while.

“I wrote a prologue,” Gerard admits. Mikey smiles.

~+~  
'because you're the only hope for - ' Pete sprays on the wall. His hands are stained with red and blue when he hears the cops. It's not finished, but he can't get caught again – with his hands in the fucking cookie jar. Somewhere farther away he sprayed 'Can I be the only hope for you?' on a wall. It's actually the one that belongs to the bakery. He feels a bit guilty for that one too. He rounds a corner and someone grabs him by his jacket. His first instinct is to fight.

“Shut up and come in,” Mikey says and Pete turns around to look at him.

“Mikey!”

“He told you to shut up,” Gerard says, smiling. Mikey pulls him into the store through the back-door. Pete didn't even know there was a back-door. “I think you sprayed Mister Yuen's wall one time too many,” he adds, amused.

“I left you love letters all over the fucking town.” Pete answers.

“We fucking know,” Mikey says pulling him in. “And we're fucking done playing by other people's rules,” he adds just before he kisses Pete.

“If you're not serious about this shit...” Pete starts as soon as Mikey gives his lips free.

“Gerard wrote a prologue,” Mikey cuts him off. He says it like it means something. Pete looks at him and waits. “It's about Poison and Kid finding Black Card in the desert.”

“And?” Pete asks, he is breathing hard. Gerard is watching them. He can feel Mikey's hands on his skin, under his hoodie, under his shirt. It feels like they are squeezing his heart.

“And they take him home,” Gerard says.

“Thank fucking god,” Pete breathes out and Gerard laughs. Sudden and carefree.

When Pete kisses Gerard he tastes like fucking glitter mixed with rock 'n' roll. Also: coffee.  
There is a second where Pete is fucking terrified to mess this whole thing up beyond anything he could ever fix.

“We don't work like that,” Gerard says.

“Like what?” Pete asks.

“Like whatever it is you think,” Mikey clarifies.

“You’re fucking crazy,” Pete says.

Gerard smiles. “You have no idea.”

 

Gerard's skin tastes like charcoal and sweat. His hair smells like dust and smoke. “You are Party Poison,” Mikey mumbles into his brother's skin, beside Pete, he bites Gerard's thigh and Gerard moans. Mikey smiles into his skin.

“Not fair, you know him longer,” Pete complains.

“I don't know all of his secrets,” Mikey answers.

“Not yet,” Pete says, grabbing Mikey by his hair and kissing him hard. This is fucking crazy and he loves it, because he is fucking crazy as well.

There is a lot of desperation and heat. Bodies pushing against each other. Pete always wanted to have a threesome, but this doesn't feel like it at all. Because Gerard and Mikey don't feel like two separate beings. They follow each other's clues without the slightest hesitation. Pete watches them kiss softly, tentatively while their hands are on his dick. He thinks he could come only from watching them together. There's this flash of memory from the day he first met them.

“I want to have sex on your comics,” he says. Gerard laughs into his skin and Mikey bites down on his collarbone. He comes biting his lip to keep the shout in and watches lazily as they jerk themselves off. No touching each other involved and it's still one of the hottest things Pete's ever seen.

Gerard falls back into the pillows and Mikey lights a cigarette for him and himself, his hand lying on the curve of Gerard's hip.

“We should get up and shower...” Pete says.

“You need to learn how to be dirty,” Gerard says, exhaling smoke. Mikey smiles.

“Can't wait for you to teach me,” Pete answers, kissing his cheek.

 

 _Prologue: Transmissions echoing away  
[](http://pics.livejournal.com/creepylicious/pic/000qzq73/)_

 _There is sand everywhere. Between his fingers and in his hair. In his clothes. When he turns his face, there is more sand. Endless. Everywhere. Close. On his skin. In his lungs._

 _The sun is a big ball of radiation, or that's what Doctor D. says anyway. Black Card never really believed in Doctor D. being who people think he is. He's just a sarcastic motherfucker like the rest of them. Card is sure of it. There’s no one to help you when you're out alone in the desert. And the Killjoys...well, if you can believe the channels – and Card doesn't believe anyone actually – they got dusted when they brought down the tower. He's going to die here. Alone in the desert, between sand and rocks, with the endless blue sky above him._

 _“I fucking hate the desert,” he says, angry._

 _~+~  
“I don't think he's dead,” Kid says, Poison pulls his bandanna away from his mouth and breathes in. _

_“Doesn't smell dead either,” he states._

 _“Gross,” Kid answers: a smile playing around his lips. He nudges the guy with his boot and he stirs._

 _“The hell?” the guy says._

 _“It's alive,” Poison smiles._

 _“Fuck you!” he spits._

 _“No need to thank us or, you know, be polite.”_

 _“We're in the fucking desert,” the guy answers, getting up so that he's sitting._

 _“No one ever said you can't be polite in the desert,” Kid shrugs._

 _“Who the fuck are you anyway?”_

 _“Party Poison and that is my brother Kid,” Poison says._

 _“You guys got ghosted.”_

 _“And our shadows live without us in the desert – yeah, don't believe everything on the radio,” Poison answers._

 _~+~  
His hair is red like freshly spilled blood. Standing out. Clashing with everything around him. Only fitting with Kobra Kid. _

_“Black Card,” he says._

 _“Yeah, that would be your fucking name,” Poison answers with a laugh that doesn't feel out of place at all here in the nothingness of the desert._

 _“What's with the hair?” he asks, letting Kid help him to his feet._

 _“It's a fucking statement,” Poison answers._

 _“I bet with you everything is,” Card says._

 _“You better,” Kid throws in._

 _“Let's go,” Poison says, pulling the bandanna over his mouth again.  
Card doesn't think it's an option, but he really doesn't care._

~end~


End file.
